Capítulo 63: Heart Breaker
*author went ahead n slept... again... but here I am with a new chapter for you all :))
Hope you'll like it. Peace out and Deus vult*
The trio prepared to leave, their steps hesitant in their own regard. Stelle seemed carefree, while Firefly held on to a tinge of anxiety that weighed down in her heart. It was something heavy, despite the reassurance gotten from both the others. Mark, however, did his best to keep up appearances, just as he usually did. Sometimes it would all become too much even for him to hide, while other times, like the current moment, he had no choice but to force it hidden. The shadows kept following him around, which made his steps hesitant.
Stelle looked forward, saying nothing, just looking at something, and Mark knew what that something was. Surprisingly, it appeared to him too, the tiny clock person being none other than Penacony's mascot, Clockie.
"Someone's dying! Please come here!"
Mark looked over and nodded, unphased. He had seen shadows lurk between worlds, horrors beyond his comprehension, so facing a tiny clock that asked for help was no issue.
"Sure, let's go. Lead the way," said Mark, nonchalant in his approach. Stelle looked at him, while Firefly was confused.
"Wait... Can you... see me?" asked Clockie, just as confused as Firefly.
"Is there a problem?" came Firefly's somewhat shy question. She didn't know what they were facing, and Mark quickly recalled some details in exchange for stinging pain. It was the most recent information he had in his mind, which said that people who were young at heart could see him. Still, trying to pry out more presented him with a mountainous headache.
"I can see... a clock with limbs..." said Stelle, her voice just as confused. Mark scoffed and shook his head.
"Come on, we've got no time to waste. Just follow the clock. Yes, we can see you."
Clockie was over the moon, smiling as his cartoonish hands rested on his hips.
"Wonderful! There's still hope for Misha." he beamed, thinking for a few moments. "Oops, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Clockie. I'm a famous ce-"
Mark cut it off, the urgent nature of the situation being more important.
"Clockie, just lead us to Misha. You said he's in trouble. We gotta find him, and we gotta do it soon if things are as urgent as you say."
Clockie snapped back to the reality within the dream, the clock hands on his face snapping at attention as his eyes widened.
"Misha! Let's go!"
Firefly was just as confused, yet Stelle seemed to have accepted the situation a bit, even if she was still skeptical.
"Mark, you're not just playing along with this to pull a prank on me and Firefly, right?"
He shook his head, following after Clockie.
"Course not. How was I supposed to know that we both see the same thing? Let's just go. We have time for explanations."
Mark walked ahead, his steps taking on a sharper edge, as if he were ready for anything to happen. He knew, of course, what to expect since the encounter was both literally and figuratively around the corner, so his mind was able to snatch what it owned and had been taken away.
"Everyone, please calm down," said Misha, the shy boy's attempt at calming the group of suit-dressed individuals that surrounded them proving futile.
The group cheered on a single guy with a pair of sunglasses and slick gray hair, calling him boss.
"You broke the rules, and now you have to pay the price," he said, cheered on by those around him. Mark spotted Acheron there, who was fed up with their bullshit.
"How did it come to this?" she muttered more to herself.
Mark stepped closer, looking over to the group. As he got closer, the man turned around, looking all smug, trying to act tough.
"Mind your own business, lad! I have to let that lady there know she's messed with the wrong person!"
Mark glanced at Acheron, who met his gaze. He was trying so hard not to burst out laughing. Those idiots were seriously picking up a fight with Acheron, of all people, a Galaxy Ranger. Mark shook his head, smiling her way. He gave his palm a twirl, asking with the motion how she got into that mess. She shrugged, simply staring at him. The 'boss', as he was called by his fellows, stared at Mark with annoyance in his eyes.
"I'm talking to you, lad! Back off before you get into trouble too!"
Mark looked at him and scoffed. With one swift motion, his hand was already on the man's shoulder, holding him firmly in place.
"Well, how about you 'forget' about this little incident? After all, I'm sure they didn't do anything too bad. Right?"
Mark stared at him with a purely artificial smile, his eyes speaking a completely different story. From behind, Stelle used the Clockworks ability, something Clockie had managed to bestow upon her—an ability that controlled emotions. The man suddenly seemed all too happy, grinning from ear to ear. Mark let go, his expression relaxed.
"Good. That's what I was thinking too. How about you let this lady go, and you go around to spread some positivity to people?"
The boss nodded, being all too happy to comply.
"Yes, we shall! Come on, gang! It's time to show people what a beautiful place Penacony is!"
The whole gang walked away, and Mark chuckled to himself as his eyes darted towards Stelle.
"Guess you got some 'emotional' power there, right?"
She sighed, crossing her arms.
"I'm tempted to try and use it on you, just to see what happens."
Mark's eyes beamed. He hadn't thought of it.
"Give it a shot. I need to see something."
She nodded, finding his eagerness a bit concerning. It was a quick attempt, but it didn't seem to work.
"Weird... it doesn't seem to work on you."
Mark sighed, unsure of why that was, but he didn't bother too much with it.
"Well, let's focus on our friends here, then."
Misha bowed a bit, his right arm crossed over his chest in a polite gesture.
"We meet again. Thank you all for your help," he said calmly.
"Nice to see you again, Misha. Acheron too. It's a surprise that we've met so soon," said Mark, smiling a bit.
Clockie looked over to Misha, speaking in that goofy tone of voice one would find in cartoons.
"Misha, are you acquainted with these friends of mine?"
"They're esteemed guests whom I've befriended recently. I told you about them before. Does it ring a bell?"
Clockie's hands pointed at Mark and Stelle.
"Oh, it's them!"
Mark chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Acheron's gaze scrutinized them all, focusing on Firefly for a moment longer. Meanwhile, she did the same, taking in Acheron's appearance. It was a short encounter, something that was birthed and died out at the same time, yet a swift trace of tension lingered in the air.
The bellboy turned to them again, smiling in his soft manner.
"Anyway, thanks a lot. If you hadn't gotten here in time, I would have been in a real mess."
Mark chuckled, waving a dismissive hand.
"No worries, you had Acheron here. I'm sure she wouldn't have simply watched the scene unfold."
She let out a soft scoff, smiling just a tiny bit as she crossed her arms.
"Thank you. I'm surprised we get to see each other so soon, Stelle, Mark."
She looked at him with something odd in her eye—that same familiarity between them seeming to have grown more since they split.
"It's a surprise for us too," said Stelle, offering a tiny smile. Mark's words about the different factions weren't forgotten, but seeing as he was so carefree with Acheron, she decided to place her trust in her.
"About all the commotion just now," Acheron began, speaking in her usual tone. "I heard a bunch of Masked Fools were causing a ruckus on the streets. I happened to be passing through, got stopped for questioning, and there were some... misunderstandings along the way. Anyway, I owe you another one."
Mark sighed, shaking his head slowly.
"No worries, it's fine. Just... damned Masked Fools..."
Firefly looked at Stelle, asking softly.
"Is this lady your friend too?"
Acheron smiled a bit, her calm demeanor unwavering.
"Well, we've only met each other once before. They're both kind souls."
Acheron looked at Firefly, speaking with a tinge more life in her tone.
"It's my pleasure to meet you, beautiful lady."
Firefly almost shied away, her face red.
"Beautiful lady," she repeated, her words close to a whisper. Mark smiled a little at the scene.
Acheron's attention snapped over to Stelle, her voice back to normal.
"By the way, what did you do to that man earlier? It's like someone took him on an emotional rollercoaster."
Firefly turned to Stelle too, and Mark did the same, just for appearances.
"I was wondering about that too... What happened back there, exactly?"
Mark simply waited, the explanation known to him, but he kept playing it stupid.
"Clockie taught me some Clockwork. It's something that can change someone's emotions."
Acheron raised a brow.
"Clockie?" she asked, confused. Misha watched from the side, his curious eyes following everything, absorbing the words like a sponge. Mark smiled a bit, feeling something bitter stir within him, accompanied by a headache.
"Yes," said Firefly, eager. "That cartoon character. I think he's shown up in reality—I mean, in the Dreamscape. I'm not sure how a cartoon character could show up around here."
Stelle nodded, shrugging.
"I have no clue either, but that's what happened. It said that only honest people with a childlike innocence can see him."
Acheron scoffed, uncrossing her arms, the motion a bit stiff.
"It seems like I'm too old to qualify for that."
Mark chuckled to himself, trying to not let it slip, but he wanted to fuck around and find out.
"Well, with how you tend to get lost, granny Acheron, it seems like age caught up to you."
Mark chuckled some more, grinning from ear to ear. She glared at him, scoffing louder this time.
"I'll make sure to keep that comment in mind for another time. Just you wait."
Despite the feigned anger, the corners of her lips were curling up slightly, giving way to an innocent smile. His heart melted at the sight, the image reminding him why choosing between Himeko and Acheron was a difficult thing. He nearly found himself drawn in to her—that specific thread that tied them together stronger with each passing minute. Whatever it was that held that resemblance of familiarity was strong.
She looked down to the side, to where Clockie was, but she didn't look at him, more like through him.
"I feel the presence of something inexplicable next to you, but it's a shame that I can't communicate with it like you can. The three of us can perceive these extraordinary things in the dream, probably due to our ability to react to memoria. But you're more attuned to it than I am."
She looked at them both, focusing a little more on Mark.
"I thought your heightened perception was caused by something that elegant Memokeeper might have left in your mind. Now, it seems to me there are many more special beings like her in this dream."
Acheron's words sent Mark straight to the dance, but something about the way she was talking to both him AND Stelle made his neurons spark. It was a subtle hint of something, which resonated with Mark's mind. Weird, but it existed there—the feeling that things were far more complicated than they seemed.
"The beautiful Memokeeper... who is she?" asked Stelle, and Mark nearly choked on air next to her. Acheron smiled, deciding that it might be time to get back at Mark for the tiny 'granny' comment from earlier. It had come sooner than expected.
"Well, shortly after Mark left with me, we found ourselves in the ballroom. There, we were approached by a beautiful Memokeeper, who asked for a dance. The three of us shared a rather intense moment there, dancing. Also, Mark,"
She smirked a bit at him, running a hand along her forehead to fix her hair.
"You still owe me a dance. We didn't get to share one back then, just a few brief moves."
Mark, who was silently cussing the hell out of both her and him, blushed a little, faking a cough as he looked away. Stelle's eyes widened a bit.
"So that's why March and Himeko couldn't find you..."
He gulped, feeling the urge to just run away and never come back.
"Ahem, anyway, moving on..."
He looked at Acheron, the mention of a dance taking a different turn.
"A dance, huh? What for and when?"
Their gazes clashed, seeking to devour one another, one's internal void deeper than the other's.
"Just a dance, for me to..." she stopped, both their eyes darting for a fugitive shadow that ran across the side of his vision. Mark noticed the movement from Acheron, and his heart stopped. "...test your moves. We'll both know of it, since I'm sure we'll meet again in here. That's when we can share it."
Stelle looked at him, her gaze berating him wordlessly. She knew that Mark showed a tendency to be a bit unlike himself around Himeko and that he may or may not feel something for her, but nothing was official, and she had no clue if she even felt something for Mark. So, with a simple shrug, Stelle looked away.
"He's a big boy; he can handle himself just fine."
Acheron, feeling a touch of satisfaction at having gotten back at Mark, returns to the topic at hand.
"Black Swan, that's her name."
Mark nodded, glad that the conversation ended. Still, out of pure fear, he checked his phone. The message he sent was left on seen. His eyes dropped, and he could feel a pang of fear strike in him.
"I'm cooked, chat..." he mumbled to himself, putting the phone away.
"Well then, I shall leave you to your outing. And Mark," she said, staring at him with teasing and seriousness blended in her eyes. "Don't go breaking the hearts of the ladies, alright? You have to make a choice."
His face lit up a bit, while Firefly was red. Stelle rolled her eyes, unimpressed.
"Damn you, Galaxy Ranger..." muttered Mark, grinning slightly. He shook his head, watching as she walked away.
"Well, back to business. Let's get going. Oh, and Misha," spoke Mark, looking at the boy. "If someone tries to cause trouble, send for us, alright?"
He gave the boy a light pat on his shoulder, which felt just as strange as the first for the young one. He nodded, smiling.
"Thank you for your help, and have fun."
The trio once again departed, and Firefly chuckled softly.
"You two better not get distracted by invisible beings again."
"Can't promise anything," replied Mark, forcing his eyes to not drift after the shadow that danced in his peripheral vision.
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